


Never After

by hiddencait



Series: Assorted Tumblr Prompt Ficlets [3]
Category: Blade (Movie Series)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 17:19:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6479326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiddencait/pseuds/hiddencait
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“What will you do? After the war is over?”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never After

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alyse](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alyse/gifts).



> Tumblr ask fill for Alyse: Either Abby/King or Sarah/Kyle (or pairing of your choice, really). After the war is over...
> 
> This did not end up nearly as long, nor as shippy as I expected it to. King went angstier than usual in my head this round.

King could always tell when someone was new to this fight, new to the all night fuck fest of Night Stalkers versus vamps versus familiars versus innocent civilians versus the ignorant law enforcement goons wanting to know why King was wearing body armor at a club. It was only the rookies who talked about an “after” like they’d live to see one.

Once King might have hoped for his own after, might have believed there was really an end in sight, a chance to triumph over the vampire hoards and return to something resembling a life. Not that he could go home again what with his family having declared him dead at some point during his stint as Danica’s favorite cavity, dental pun definitely intended. Daystar had been as close to an answer as he’d dared to let himself have; Sommerfield was a fucking genius, after all. If anyone could have managed the vampire end-of-days, it would have been her.

Not that Daystar hadn’t been a success in the long run. Knocking out the entire Talos clan in one go made a hefty dent in the political landscape of vampire operations. And watching Danica die slowly had done wonders for King’s mood, for damn sure.

But it would have been nice if the virus had actually spread the way they’d all hoped. Nice the way a happy ending in a fairy tale would be nice, assuming he was watching the Disney version as opposed to the originals.

He and Abby were keen on exposing Zoe to the originals. Sugary sweet princesses sadly weren’t going to feel real to the kid, not after what she’d been through.

Not after what they’d all been through.

So no, King didn’t have a happy “picket fences and 2.5 kids” kind of answer to give the newbies who inevitably asked about his “future plans” during their first post-hunt drinking binge. He didn’t give them the “you fucking idiot this never ends” kind of answer that came to mind, either, though. Contrary to popular belief, King was aware of the concept of “tact.” Not particularly fond of it, but aware, and specifically aware of how desperately the newbies tended to cling to some semblance of hope after whatever tragic event drove them to hunting in the first place. 

The answer King eventually gave would be different every time, something off the wall and on his personal brand: llama farming or chinchilla ranching, joining a travelling circus as a cotton candy seller, or opening a bowling alley. Something to make the rookie laugh and snort beer out of their nose if King timed it right.

Something, anything, but the truth, that “after” wasn’t something he saw happening for him. For Zoe maybe, but not for him. Not for Abby either.

When King allowed himself to really, truly look to their likely future, to hope for the best case scenario for his little family, it was always Zoe going off to college to follow in her mother’s footsteps as a scientist, keeping safe from the front lines of their midnight war, but still fighting for the cause in as non-violent a way as possible. 

He’d like to imagine Zoe away from the fight altogether, but just couldn’t picture it.

And for him? His future always looked like “Abby-and-King” hunting together as long as they could until their bodies gave out or the vamps finally got one over one them. That’s what “hopeful” looked like to him: Abby, always Abby, stronger than him in all the ways that mattered, and willing to find strength in him anyway. Willing to let him stay as close to her as possible, to allow him into her bed and her arms and her life.

There might never be an “after the war” for him, but there’s Abby. And she’s more than enough.


End file.
